My house my rules, Grenade

Chapter five.

Dante

“Are you on pills?” The question was out, before I could stop myself. And as expected, she had a weird look on her face, as she turned to look at me.

“What? You were the one who took advantage of me, last night. Yet, you're worried about getting me pregnant?” A constipated look masked her pretty face.

“I have my reputation to protect.” I halted abruptly, and she almost ran into me.

She didn't say another word, and instead followed me, as I led her to my office.

Luca was comfortably seated on the sofa, his legs crossed, as he worked on his laptop. He placed it down when he saw me.

“Zio.” He winked, and was about to continue, when his gaze overlooked my shoulder and he stopped.

“Is an apartment ready?” I asked, as I made my way to my chair. The wing of my Dimora, where my office was located, was my most favorite part. It directly overlooked the vineyard, and it was a habit of mine to sip wine, during the evenings while I stared at the scenery. And that was if I wasn't working, of course.

“What apartment?” West cut in, looking at me directly. Cristo. I had to put her in her place.

“I told you I'd get a place for you to stay.” The words rolled out, in complete contrast to how I was inwardly feeling.

“I didn't say I wanted that.” She flailed her hands, with an exasperated look.

Luca turned to look at me, and in turn, I glared at her. “I've looked into your background. You're an orphan, and you truly have no place to go. Are you trying to reject my kind gesture?” I grabbed a pen, and tapped it calmly on the table.

Like I always did, whenever I was keeping my annoyance at bay. And at that moment, I was.

“Kind gesture?” She scoffed. “Of course. A man taking advantage of a drunken woman, and offering her money afterwards, is a kind gesture. Who thought I'd experience something like this? This is the modern century, for fuck's sake. And you said it yourself, Dante. You aren't kind, and you could kill me if you wanted to.” She crossed her arms, as she tilted her chin defiantly at me.

“Mind your words when speaking to me, West.” I warned.

“Or what? You'd kill me? Go ahead.” She shrugged, making me wonder if she was acting that way out of ignorance of who I truly was, or she just wanted to provoke me.

No one had ever spoken to me the way she was doing, now. And the few who had…their cases were history.

I was already on my feet, when Luca stood up sharply.

“Basta, Zio.” He muttered quietly. “Let it be.”

After another sharp look at her unwavering calm face, I took my seat again. I glanced at Luca, my face an envelope of fury. He averted his gaze.

She still had that defiant look on her face, when I finally turned to her again. After an inward contemplation, I waved Luca away.

“Leave us.”

He nodded, and walked out of the office.

“If I let you stay here-” I began, once the door shut close. “-You have to abide by my rules. And first,” I got up slowly, and advanced towards her. “First, is to never question my orders.”

She didn't flinch nor move, until I was just a few meters away from her. Her lips parted to speak. “But-”

I cut her off. “If there are any buts, then you can leave. My Dimora, my rules.” I tucked my hands into my pockets, and watched as her face tensed.

She was silent for a few seconds, and I nodded. “That's what I thought. Follow me.” I ordered, making my way towards the door.

“And where are you taking me to?” She asked quietly, behind me.

“Your room.” I replied curtly.

***

Guilia was right outside the door. She held a tray of cookies and warm milk, as she berated me for skipping breakfast.

My father and my uncle had died, trying to protect the 'Ndrangheta during a clash with one of the rival Mafia families. And since then, I'd taken it upon myself to take care of Guilia, my Aunt.

She'd long become the mother figure, which I never had. A mischievous look covered her face, as her eyes twinkled.

“Lei è la tua donna?” Her face was expectant, as she asked me if West was my woman. She casted a smiling face at an obviously brooding West.

Guilia had been pressuring me to give her a niece or nephew, for as long as I could remember.

I shook my head, grabbing the cookies. I kissed her on the cheeks, and pulled away. "No, non lo è.” I ruffled her hair, knowing she hated it.

“Basta.” She glared at me, and turned to West.

“Non lasciare che ti intimidiscono." She patted her shoulders gently. The height difference was glaring.

“What did she say?” West turned towards me, with a helpless look on her face.

“She said you should respect me.” I shrugged.

“I can swear on my pretty ass, that wasn't what she said.” West grumbled.

I rolled my eyes. What pretty ass?

“I said,” Guilia began speaking again. “Don't let him make you afraid.”

I suddenly wished she didn't know a few English words, as I began walking away.

“Riposati un po', Zia.” I called out.

West tailed me, as I headed to a lone part of the Dimora. A melancholic feeling enveloped me, as I drew nearer to the door. How long had it been since I stepped on this floor?

Three years, or was it four?

And even though I never visited this part, I ensured it was cleaned everyday, by the maids. The bed linens, and even curtains were changed yearly. Guilia saw to that.

“Is this where I'm going to be staying?” A calm voice cut through my thoughts.

I turned to face her. “Doesn't it look like it?” Unlike the other rooms, this particular one didn't have a security lock.

Evelyn had insisted she didn't need it. I pushed the door open gently, and walked in.

“Wow.” West moved past me, as she hurried inside. She jumped on the bed, and let out a contented sigh.

“You don't need to ask me if I like it. I love it.” She mumbled from the bed.

I scoffed, and reverted to my usual cold demeanor. I placed the tray of cookies on a nearby table. Perhaps sensing the change in the room, she sat up, and looked at me.

As I looked into her eyes, I wondered why I was here. Why I'd even brought her to my Dimora, and worse, why I'd brought her to my late wife's room.

“Whose room is this? Did you make someone move out because of me?” She rose, and approached me cautiously.

“Stay back. It's none of your business. Like I said, obey my orders, and you can stay here.” I reminded.

“For as long as I want?” She asked, and my lips curved. I hadn't thought about that.

“Settle down.” I turned towards the door.

“Wait, Dante.” She called out, and hurried over to me. “Can I get a laptop?” She pleaded.

“What for?” I looked at her suspiciously. She shrugged, in response. “I'm a lady, social media shouldn't be a taboo for me.”

I nodded. That made sense.

“No.” I replied.

“I can scroll through social media, do stuff,” she was saying, and then paused. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me. You can't get it. If you want a laptop, work for it.” I turned towards the door again.

“But you are rich.” She protested.

“That's right. And I chose how to spend my money.” I retorted.

“Please.” She tried again, blinking her eyes. “I really need it. I'd be quite lonely without it.”

“You can hang out with Guilia.” I pointed out.

“And stare like a fool, while she speaks Italian?”

I paused, and looked at her intently. She looked eager, and after a while, I found myself saying, “Luca would bring one to you soon.”

“Really? Like, my personal laptop?” She clapped her hands, and I nodded.

As I made my way towards the operating room, I made the sign of the cross, and hoped I wasn't digging a death hole for myself.

Santino rose, as I walked in. “Capo.”

I turned to Luca who was biting at a cookie, with a tray full of them on his lap. He didn't even spare me a glance. And when he finally did, he winked. “Don't blame me. Guilia's cookies are so good. Sure you don't want one, Santino?” He stretched out a cookie.

“Thanks consigliere, I'd pass.”

“Take a laptop to West.” I said to Luca, whose hand froze midway to his mouth.

“What?”

I ignored him, and turned to Santino. “I want you to keep a tab of everything she does on the laptop.” With cold gleaming eyes, I sat down on a swivel chair, and crossed my legs.

I just had to wait, and see what she was up to.